Summary
The Valkyries are the ‘Choosers of the Slain’, observing the battlefield to select those chosen dead to reside and fight in one of two afterlives, Sessrúmnir (Freyja’s ‘many seated hall’ in Fólkvangr) or Odin’s hall, Valhalla. We’ve largely agreed – over the last century or so- that this summarises the Valkyries quite well.
But does that truly do these corpse maidens justice, or do they hold a more important role and duty within the greater Nordic sphere? Let’s take a look.
About me:
Sif Brookes is a Nordic / Norse Heathen who is fascinated with pre-Christian Germanic burial rites, beliefs around death, Viking Age armour and weaponry, historical seiðr, and last but not least, the Valkyries. She is on the committee of Asatru UK and the Pagan Federation (alongside being the National LGBTQIA+ Manager for the latter), and speaks regularly at events on inclusive heathenry and paganism (and the Valkyries whenever given any sort of opportunity to do so). She is a writer, artist and advocate.
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Introduction: Hello, I realise I’m very new here, so I’ll do a quick intro – I’m Sif Brookes. I’m fascinated with the Valkyries, who I also worship predominantly in my practice as a Norse or Nordic Heathen. I’m on the committee of Asatru UK and the Pagan Federation, as well as being the LGBTQIA+ Manager for the latter. I’m co-Creator of the Heathen Wyrdos Podcast – though I left that venture earlier this month to fly on my own. I create Heathen and Norse Pagan content under Valsif and Lady Valsif – I speak at events on inclusive heathenry and paganism, and endeavour to bring new perspectives to early Medieval Nordic literature. I run the Heathens of Mercia kindred, which is in its early establishing stages, and I am currently about halfway through writing my first book which discusses the Valkyries as inheritors of divine seiðr alongside a greater analysis of historical seiðr as a whole, with discussion around the literature and archaeology. Which brings me to the here and now.
Point to note, I have chosen to adopt the anglicised terminology for almost all of the names and places mentioned in this talk for accessibility.
I’ll also admit from the outset that the title of this talk is a bit misleading, if only because the idea of woven fate is so contentious and controversial in the early medieval Nordic literature, pre-Christian Nordic religion, and in modern academic circles. Indeed, even the Nornir – the beings most strongly associated with fate – have few attestations of actually weaving.
Like most things in this sphere, there’s certainly an element of – for lack of a better term – contamination when it comes to trying to wade through the reeds of Christian additions or filtration, classical inspirations, 19th and 20th century romanticism and distortion, persevering folkloric interpretations, and indeed modern re-evaluations.
As a Norse heathen, this is confusing at the best of times. And as a reconstructive heathen – that is to say I try and aim towards historical accuracy in the way I practice – it can seem like an impossible task to try and figure out the ways in which the Viking Age pagans practiced themselves. And that’s putting aside the fact that Viking Age religious practice was never a cohesive whole to begin with, with little consensus across geography or history in terms of how to worship and how to practice, full stop. They didn’t even have a proper name for their religion or its followers, if only calling it the Old Ways in relation to the newer wave of Christianity and the incoming wave of more organized, dogmatic religion.
What we do have, are fragments. Of little glimpses and snapshots here and there of what the old ways were like. Of non-heathen writers writing about their experiences with the unusual customs of the time, eventually backed up by others writing about similar experiences, or archaeology working to lift the veil on burial and funerary rites which can tell us so much about the beliefs around life and death in the period. We see this with Ibn Fadlan and his experiences with the Rus in his seminal work the Land of Darkness describing – in his view and arguably in the modern view too – a rather brutal burial of a passed king, with its many sacrifices, intricate ritualistic practices, and offerings.
But still, these accounts are few and far between, and many lack the balance of complimentary sources not to mention the additional consideration of dodgy provenance – after all, it was often in the best interests of those writing to portray the barbaric pagans as ‘primitive’ and ‘uncivilized’ in comparison to their Christian and Islamic counterparts. Heathens today are left with a scarcity of reliable sources of information – that is to say that which is as close to objectivity as possible.
Which brings me to the Valkyries. I would argue, valiantly and with much vigour, that the Valkyries suffer more than most from this additional influence, or perhaps to word it better, gradual erosion from their core foundational selves. Albeit, this influence is more apparent. If you take a screenshot of the Valkyries at their earliest depictions, and then at their latest depictions, the difference is almost jarring, obvious, and apparent.
I would also argue that they were some of the first victims of the gradual domestication and efforts to make these mythical beings mundane. At one point, beings of the battlefield, psychopomps, powerful and extraordinary, to the very human daughters of Kings and wives of very mortal heroes. That’s not to say that there wasn’t a sort of echo that remained of their earlier selves, but it is incredible faint.
The Valkyrie, either as a collective or as an individual has persevered over millennia. They have acted as muses, and inspiration for countless creatives, and inspired works of the greatest minds. There’s something enthralling, mysterious, captivating about them, in whatever form they take. The Valkyries are, I would confidently state, as known in today’s world as Thor and Odin, even if many don’t know the name Valkyrie. The supernatural, powerful often winged warrior woman persists, breaking beyond the boundaries of Nordic mythology and into the zeitgeist.
Which makes it all the more interesting that modern heathens and academia have largely collectively decided that we know the Valkyries. Case closed. Filed away. Done and dusted. As a result, relatively little resources are dedicated to studying them further today, with only a handful of notable exceptions – Luke John Murphy, Neil Price, and Leszek Gardela, chief among them, who are moving the discussion forwards in bursts, partnering it with supplementary research into historical seiðr and the role of women in the Viking Age – which continues to be a rolling landscape of evolving discussion.
As it is, there’s a rather prominent theme in modern heathen circles to reduce the Valkyries to the role of a mead maiden. The daughters of Odin. Servants of Odin. This consensus has ultimately dampened any resurgence in reevaluation – not on my watch, I say!
So let’s look at what we can conclude. Like most things in this sphere, it’s perhaps best to start with a name. Valr, slain or fallen in battle and Kiosa/kyrja, to choose or to select. Together, Valkyrja, to choose those slain in battle. We know from the feminine collective, that they are all women – a fascinating aspect that I will come to again later.
Many seem to overlook this active framing of the Valkyries in their duty when writing about them. They are not simply, passively observing the course of battle, but actively choosing who lives and who dies. We have kennings, phrases and verses that relate to the image of them batting aside arrows, and ensuring spears hit their mark. They wade between the masses, the throngs of people, and extend their influence. It’s an evocative image.
This is reaffirmed in Gylfaginning otherwise known as the Beguiling of Gylfi in the Prose Edda by 13th century scholar and politician Snorri Sturluson – with Odin stating that while he sends them to every battle, it is the Valkyries themselves who choose who dies”. I don’t want to get too in the reeds about that wording here but take note. It’s important.
Valkyries as demonic creatures of the battlefield
What else can we say about them? Well, not only do they choose who dies on the battlefield, but they take those chosen slain to one of two afterlives (although we can conclude there are more than two afterlife halls in Viking Age beliefs) – Valhalla, which is the most commonly known destination, and Sessrumnir (or more specifically Folkvangr, Freyja’s field on which her many seated hall resides). In Grimnismal verse 14, we have the inference that Freyja gets ‘first pick’ of the slain, with Odin getting the remainder. Many words have been shared and much ink has been spilled and dedicated to fleshing out the possibilities of the latter, but comparatively little have been used to describe Freyja’s role in this whole, colossal deal – made worse by the post-conversion scholarly tendency to skip over any opportunities to wax poetic about the goddesses.
Other than that, we have attestations across the Eddas that name various Valkyries being involved in important events. It’s here that we also have Skuld, who is directly referred to in the Prose Edda as the ‘Youngest Norn’ by Snorri, being described as a Valkyrie. In the later heroic sagas, the Valkyries tend to appear solo, becoming the wives of heroes and the daughters of kings, apparently stripped of their more divine attributes, depowered – though still far from ordinary and worthy of note. In this the title of Valkyrie becomes almost honorary, or adopted a meaning that differentiated it from the beings we see in the earlier stories – or included certain criteria and characteristics that we can only guess at. Maybe, the figures referred to as Valkyries in the later heroic sagas were given that title in recognition that they followed the path of their namesakes.
As daughters of Kings, these women were less likely to face the social repercussions of taking an interest in martial combat and potentially given more freedom to explore that desire and others of a similar path – at least until it reached its inevitable end, and a husband was expected to be found. This is drawing on the surviving kenning of the Valkyries being called ‘Odin-Daughter’, and the human Kings in turn being made godlier to reinforce their status and the importance of their ancestral line.
And so, we have the monstrous depiction of the Valkyries as almost primordial creatures of the battlefield, delighting in slaughter. And we have the image of the Valkyrie as human royalty, mead-bearer, guardian and guide.
But…. Any considerations beyond this in modern literature hits a bit of a wall when we start to go beyond that core duty, and it’s here that we see a lot of overlap with the disir, the Nornir, and the hamingja/fylgja – two parts of the soul. It becomes a bit messy, to put it simply. While the specificities of demarcation isn’t the subject of this talk, I can wholeheartedly recommend The Norns in Old Norse Mythology by Karen Bek-Pedersen for a thorough breakdown there if that’s of interest. To summarise though, feminine beings are frequently tied to the soul, to life and death, and to fate. It’s a prevalent theme.
Ultimately, I would love if we could put things into very specific boxes, to demarcate one thing and another, with little to no overlap. But that isn’t the case with so much of the literature, and that is also very, very true when it comes to the Valkyries, especially when you start to really dive beneath the surface. Because, to call them the Choosers of the Slain without exploring the realities of that wording or by reducing them to the role of almost mindless servant does them a disservice. Especially when even the scant information we have leads towards painting a different conclusion.
Because what is Choosing the Slain other than having a role in the manipulation of fate? Or having a crucial decision over the fates of many? Potentially empires even, deciding the path of history? I believe that it is no coincidence that the Valkyries are so strongly associated with two gods that are, in many ways, very similar – being in turn associated as they are with passion, frenzy, battle, war, death and most importantly, seiðr. Or that Skuld – the youngest Norn – who we mentioned earlier, is listed among the Valkyries.
They are beings innately tied to fate, and there’s absolutely an argument to say that this extends to their later depictions too, as focused as they are on protecting and guiding people that will go on to change many fates in turn. – the Heroes of sagas and future kings with long lineages.
Fate in the Nordic realm is a heavy word, and rarely as streamlined as it can be in other cultures. The Nornir share certain similarities with the Hellenic Sisters of Fate, but they also share many differences too – namely that if the Valkyries and indeed, Odin can manipulate fate, then fate isn’t determined by the Norns themselves, merely guided. There’s room for change, a life’s course to be diverted. Skuld’s name, after all, means doubt, potential. Nothing is set in stone.
Yet, fate’s connection with the imagery associated with textiles remains. In Reginsmal verse 14, we have the description of a fate thread, and while the Norns are rarely described as actively weaving fate, we do have some attestations – notably Helgakviða Hundingsbana I – in the Poetic Edda
‘Twas night in the dwelling,
and Norns there came,
Who shaped the life
of the lofty one;
They bade him most famed
of fighters all
And best of princes
ever to be.
3. Mightily wove they
the web of fate,
While Bralund’s towns
were trembling all;
And there the golden
threads they wove,
And in the moon’s hall
fast they made them.
And of course, the Valkyries themselves are shown weaving in that ever-quoted Njal’s saga from the 13th century. It’s a personal favourite.
Men’s heads were the weights, but men’s entrails were the warp and weft, a sword was the shuttle, and the reels were arrows.
Here they are literally weaving with the lives of men to determine their fate.
While fate has its ties to imagery involving threads, weaving, looms etc. So too, does seiðr – a prominent type of magic in the sagas, practiced by Odin and Freyja, and many human practitioners as well. My specific area of interest, among many apparently, is exploring the Valkyries as seiðworkers, and being the Inheritors of Divine, or Godly Seiðr.
What, after all, is the purpose of magic but an attempt to change the course of fate? And Seiðr itself manifests in many ways, from divination and changing the weather to shape-changing and assigning invulnerability or protection to another. It is all very reminiscent of the names of the Valkyries, the roles that they play, their ability to shape change into swans bringing to mind Freyja’s falcon cloak, and the attestations we have of being active in battle. Here’s another section from Helgakviða Hundingsbana I;
Helmeted Valkyries came down from the sky
—the noise of spears grew loud—they protected the prince;
then said Sigrun—the wound-giving valkyries flew,
the troll-woman’s mount was feasting on the fodder of ravens
Seiðr was particularly tied to women and their sphere of things, so much so that for a man to practice often came at great social cost. Which brings me onto the final part of this talk, otherwise I will be here for hours – the power of liminality.
Time and time again we see the act of crossing boundaries as entering a liminal space. This is most commonly seen in the crossing of expected gender boundaries. A common theme in Nordic literature and what we can gather about their society is that personal transgression to the detriment of community reputation is often a gateway to the supernatural, or the ‘other’.
The Valkyries then, are archetypal paragons of this paradigm, at once combining the apparent strict masculine behaviours of being warriors, with the feminine activity of weaving and textile work (and on top of that, being female – we have no male Valkyries, which I think speaks volumes). Much the same can be said of Odin and Freyja too, embodying both masculine and feminine behaviours.
There’s power in moving beyond boundaries, an understanding that if one is able to withstand the repercussion of crossing boundaries – to pay the cost for such power – that something incredible lies in wait. The space between boundaries is a place of unknowable potential. It’s a potential that Odin understood – moving beyond death and the veil between life and death to learn the secrets of the runes, as well as moving across the gender boundary to learn seiðr from Freyja.
This also touches back on the idea that great power must also come at a great cost. Nothing is given freely. Whether that be Odin offering an eye to attain greater wisdom or ‘giving himself to himself’ upon Yggdrasil, Heimdall offering his hearing/an ear to attain greater hearing for the betterment of the community, or arguably, Gullveig undergoing torture and attempted murder – there are numerous examples.
I would also posit that Valhalla itself is a liminal space, in that those that have supposedly died to get there can experience ‘death’ and ‘revival’ once more. And the Valkyries being present in that space holds more questions too, that I won’t get into here.
However, the most obvious example of this liminal nature and boundary transgression – is the Viking Age seiðworker. To practice magic was seen as other, something which was feared, hated, and respected almost in equal measure. There’s an element of submission when it comes to human seiðr practice that is, if I have drawn appropriate conclusions over the extent of this talk, absent from the Valkyries. Where the human seiðworkers must potentially expose themselves to outside forces, the Valkyries are the outside force, plucking those chosen souls from this world to the next. It allows active control and mastery over their realm, a realm which the Viking Age people romanticised and thrived in. The battlefield was where allegiances and loyalties were tested, empires forged, and war-chiefs earned their reputation. And it was the Valkyries that controlled that space, who chose those who would win, and who would die. I’ve long held the belief that the Valkyries were not servants of any god, but a key element on the greater board of play. Fate Weavers, Protectors, Psychopomps, Guardians, Corpse-Choosers, all.
I hope over the course of this talk that I have pulled many threads together to form a cohesive whole, or at least made a good start at weaving a complete image. But like a piece of string, I can talk at much length on this subject, so I’ll stop there. Thank you for listening.
References I included in the talk:
Bek-Pedersen, Karen. 2011. The Norns in Old Norse Mythology. Dunedin Academic Press, Scotland, UK.
Blain, Jenny. 2002. Nine Worlds of Seid-Magic. Ecstasy and Neo-Shamanism in North European Paganism. Routledge. UK.
Ellis, Hilda Roderick. 1943. The Road to Hel. Cambridge University Press.
Ellis Davidson, Hilda Roderick. 1964. Gods and Myths of Northern Europe. Pelican, Harmondsworth.
Friðriksdóttir, Jóhanna Katrín. 2020. Valkyrie, the Women of the Viking World. Bloomsbury Academic. UK.
Gardeła, Leszek. 2009: A Biography of the Seiðr-Staffs. Towards an Archaeology of Emotions. In L. P. Słupecki, J. Morawiec (eds.), Between Paganism and Christianity in the North, Rzeszów: Rzeszów University, 190-219.
Hayeur Smith, Michèle. 2020. The Valkyries’ Loom: The Archaeology of Cloth Production and Female Power in the North Atlantic. University Press of Florida. USA.
Heide, Eldar. 2004. “Spinning Seiðr.” Old Norse Religion in Long-Term Perspectives: Origins, Changes, and Interactions. Edited by Anders Andrén, Kristina Jennbert, and Catharina Raudvere. Nordic Academic Press: Lund, Sweden.
Price, Neil. 2002. The Viking Way: Religion and War in Late Iron Age Scandinavia. Uppsala University: Uppsala, Sweden. Title image, copyright belongs to Dean Spencer.
(This talk was delivered via Zoom to the Edgeways community on April 29th 2023).
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